Traitor
by A Sin for Jason
Summary: Col. William Tavington and his capture of a colonial who just happens to be Benjamin Martin's oldest daughter, Charlotte & the troubles that make the war look calm when they fall in love. Charly is a CC RR please?
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter I_

He watched the fireflies as they danced in front of him.

Small specks of light...On Off...On Off

_How...interesting._

A hand raised slowly and fingers deftly captured one of the small black bugs gently and he brought it back to study it closer. It had not made an effort to escape. It didn't fear the man. Even though he was easily a thousand times bigger than the small insect and had killed many of the same sort since he'd been in this country. Turning the bug over and over in his hand and watching the rear end light go on and go out. And the smallest of smiles when he heard the soft voice behind him.

"I used to do that when I was 5, you know..."

Distinctly female. Distinctly playful.

Rather than crush the insignificant insect as he had so many of its kind so many times before, he opened his hand and let the little fellow fly off to join its friends. That was when he turned to see the young lady that stood on the balcony above and behind him, the double doors open to their rooms behind her. She leaned on the railing onto her forearms, the smallest and mostteasing of smiles down at him.

"So, Colonel," a pause, "...might I entice yourself to come up and visit with a lonely young rebel?"

Tavington had to chuckle softly to himself before he headed for theentrance on the main floor and then up the stairs, his bootheels thudding a solid rhythm as he came down the hallway. He walked into his own room and then across and opened the door to the room he shared a common doorway with..

Charlotte Martin turned when she heard him walk in and with a slow stroll and hands behind her back, fingers interlaced, she made her way back into the room. At 17 years old, Charlotte had been captured as a spy when she had tried to free her older brother from the Colonel and his Dragoons when they had raided her father's farm. The slaves had been taken and the livestock had been killed.She had watchedthe very act of the British soldierscontain Gabriel, the eldest. Gabriel was tied andled behind a wagon on his way to Camden to be hanged as a spy for the Colonial militia. _But they didn't know, wasCharlotte was behind them._

_But of course she didn't have a clue that they also knew she was there. When she tried to untie her brother to free him, three soldiers convened and took her to the Colonel's tent. They were bid to leave and the Colonel prowled over to her and around her slowly as if a tiger sizing up its prey._

_"So here now before me stands the daughter of one of the most enigmatic figures that haunt the British troops." A pause as he studied her back. How she stood unafraid of him. How she didn't flinch when he moved close to her. "And your name would be?" that quiet baritone like the soft growl of a wild animal and with an impressed but reserved smirk. He stood behind her so close and closed his eyes for a moment, lost in the feeling of being so near a creature as lovely as she was. The faint scent of the forest. The hint of themeal she hadshared earlier thatafternoonwith her family. The smell of the shampoo she used in her hair. The gentle scent of her verbena perfume. _

_Charlotte barely moved, but her gaze watched him as he walked around her, but losing sight of him when he was behind her completely, she set her gaze forward again. " Charlotte Ryan Martin, Colonel. Oldest daughter of Benjamin Martin, of the Fresh Water plantation."_

_Tavington's pale eyes opened slowly. His gaze fell on the soft blonde hair in front of him and the wisps and strands that fell down the back of her neck and around her face. Her bangs framed that same face and her skin was flawless. Large doe- eyes with lashes so long and dark. Slowly one hand raised and fingertips traced against her bare shoulder and she quivered. "Oldest, hm? Won't your betrothed be looking for you? Worried?"_

_Charlotte snorted softly. "Hardly. Since I'm not betrothed. We don't do things so rash in this world, sir. We let our women decide if they want to marry and who."_

_Tavington chuckled softly and walked around to face her. His expression had lightened and his touch wasn't as dangerous as it had been just a few moments ago as fingertips brushed a stray lock of blonde from her face and their eyes locked. "And how can I not believe that a wildcat such as yourself wouldn't be tied down yet?" There was no answer from the girl but she also had studied the Colonel with the same intensity and come to a conclusion on her own. One that would make things even more difficult than they should have been._

_They had another day trek before they got to Fort Carolina where the Colonel kept quarters in the large house with other officers. A small corps of the Dragoons with some foot soldiers were sent to take Gabriel to Camden. Only one day out of the fort, the troop was surprised by a militia of soldiers from the rebels and most killed but most important, Gabriel was set free to return back to the colonials. _

_The surprising thing was..when word had travelled back to Fort Carolina, and to Tavington, he sent his second to the field hospital to talk to the only survivor. In the meantime, after many late night talks and stories shared, the Colonel realized that the girl they_ _had caught had captured his heart._

They had been together for nearly a month now. Her father was causing grand scale amounts of troubles for the British troops. He'd demanded the return of his daughter and even when Tavington had agreed and tried to send her back to her family, Charlotte wouldn't go. She had fallen for the Colonel. He was so alone. She knew he needed someone, and she did too. Now she'd found him.

Against all odds -- and against all good sense -- they'd fallen in love.

The war_ still raged_, but now it didn't seem that the Colonel wanted to continue his attempts to fight the rebels any longer. He now had a sort of "distraction". And she was indeed a beautiful one.

He slowly walked into the room and pulled out the chair at the desk with a scrape of its wooden feet against the floor. He slowly sat down, the chair creaking a protest at having any weight put upon it, but his gaze never left the girl a mere five feet in front of him. "And why aren't you in bed by now, young lady?" he said with a small smirk. For the life of him he couldn't understand why he should deserve someone like her to be his. And what's worse is that the other commanders and generals at the fort didn't seem to have a problem with keeping her in one of the rooms, let alone one next to his.

Didn't seem right to quarter a young girl with the other men that were being held in the rows of cells. So she was given quarters in the adjoining room beside the Colonel. He'd caught her. He could watch over her.

They ate meals in private, and shared many nights talking and discovering what made each other tick. Charlotte had told him about her life with her father, and when her mother had died her aunt staying with them to help care for the kids with the slaves and in general life at the plantation. Tavington told her of his joining of the military but kept most other information guarded. Not that he didn't want her to know, really, but that he usually didn't reveal any weaknesses about himself. For some reason he seemed to not mind talking to her and knew soon enough she would break down the very walls he had built and would know everything about him.

But for now, she was just happy to have someone as attentive. He seemed to hang on every story she told Every little bit of herself she offered. To him, he had so much to catch up on that he didn't know about her. And he wanted to know it all.

"I was hoping to say good night to the gentleman that lived next door." she said softly and took another three steps forward. He smiled, and when she came closer, he stood and one hand eased behind his back as his other reached for her own hand and the gentlest of bows.

"Well then might I say about this 'gentleman' that to keep such a beautiful young lady waiting, he must be a vile wretch."

She smiled a most chaste grin and crimson washed over her cheeks as she allowed her hand to ease into his. "No not so, Colonel! He is the most gentlest man I've known. He is a mystery, tis true but I can only wait until he believes he can trust me as much as I trust him to open up to me..."

His fingers closed around her small hand in an easy grasp and his pale blue eyes never left her dark blues. "As I said, milady, then this person is not worthy of your..." but he couldn't even say it since he knew it was true.

She closed her fingers - as best as she could - around his hand and when he brought hers to his lips and brushed the softest kiss to the back of it, her smile disappeared for only a moment when he stopped speaking and didn't finish. "I'm sorry, Colonel. This man is most deserving of _anything_ I can offer. He has shown me nothing but kindness since I've known him." The smile coming back to tug gently at the corners of her lips. "And he is most worthy of especially my love. Most misunderstand him Most hate him. Many even above that fear him. But they don't see the man underneath that I do. And I want to make sure he knows that I'm here for him." A slight curtsy and a soft nod of her head towards the door. "So, milord...if you see him, please tell the gentleman that -- well, direct him to me. For I have something to tell him tonight."

Tavington smiled at her words and with a gentle pull drew her closer to himself and his free hand slid around herwaist, holding her close and leaning down to her, lips merely centimetres apart. "Why not give me the message and I'll tell him when I see him."

Pressed close againt hisbody and then with his hand on the small of her back, fingers splayed, to hold her there, Charlotte took in his scent...his warm breath washing over her lips...she felt her heart race and she had to lick her lips to wet them again after her own breath began coming in panting breaths. "Tell him that I love him. And wish that he were here with me tonight and always."

Tavington stared into her eyes for the longest of minutes and then finally he pushed closer but before their lips met he whispered softly, "And I love you, Charlotte...even moreso. I'm always with you...to be apart would be to rip a part of myself out. You are my life...my soul...Please be mine forever..."

She was about to answer when he pressed his lips to hers in a kiss full of fire and the deepest of passion. And with the soft breeze that blew in through the open doors from the balcony came a dozen fireflies. Floating and flitting around the candlelit bedroom and bringing the site of the stars inside for the evening.

_Small specks of light. On Off. On Off._




	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2 _

Dawn.

The singing of the birds.

Charlotte knew that the sun would be wanting to drill its rays into her skull if she -

One eye cracked slowly open but instead of the beating rays of the sun, she saw that a fog had rolled in over the night and had blanketed the entire land. Hmm. She yawned, one hand covering her mouth as her other stretched up to the headboard and she stretched out down to her toes as far as they could go.

She smiled as she snuggled under the down comforter, remembering the night before, well mostly, but, ya know...she really didn't remember her falling asle- hmm...strange. And she turned onto her side away from the balcony doors and slid her arm around the Colonel's armas she snuggled clo--

Wait.

And slowly her eyes opened. Looking at...blinkblink. And suddenly she sat bolt upright in bed, jerking Tavington awake and in his shock of her sitting there in his nightshirt, though completely covered, he yelped and tried to scramble away which only caused him to get his feet entangled in the comforter he had been laying on beside her, and still trying to get away, he rolled and fell with a loud and hard **THUD** off the other side of the bed.

Charlotte tried not to laugh. But when he finally was awake enough to try and sit up, and that confused face looked up at her over the edge of the bed, she lost it completely and fell back into the pillows in a gigglefit. "Colonel! That was entertaining!" But when he grumbled softly and disengaged his foot from the blanket and fought to stand up, staggering a bit since he was still half asleep, he ran one hand through his hair that was loose and hanging about his shoulders which were covered in the white shirt with the ruffled collar which was untied around his throat and loose as well. The only other clothing on him were his black uniform trousers, and he put one hand on the bedpost to steady himself as he fought back a yawn and finally looked down at her. "Are you all right?"

Charlotte bit down on her bottom lip hard and nodded slowly. "I'm fine, Colonel. Thank you muchly. Now...if you'd be so kind as to tell me." And her eyes narrowed playfully. "What the bloody hell are you doing in my bed and what happened last night that I missed?"

Tavington fought back another yawn and was about to tell her what had happened, but then that devil on his shoulder popped in and whispered in his ear and with a devious smile he said softly, drawing onto one knee as he leaned onto the bed again, a rather teasing smile on his lips. "Why, my lady...you don't remember? I should be hurt deeply if you can't recall the most wonderful evening we shared, literally until even the fireflies gave out."

Charlotte stared at him. He was..._kidding_. Right? And she worried at the inside of her cheek and shook her head slightly as her gaze fell to the bed and she desperately tried to remember what they had -- . Hmm. Snort. And her blue eyes rose again to lock onto his as if daring him to describe the activities of the night before. "No, Colonel. I don't 'remember'. Now if you would please find the door to your own room," and she pointed to the door that joined their rooms which was still open, "I would appreciate it and still be able resolve myself to call you 'sir'."

Classic. But he wasn't going to give up this easily. The other knee onto the bed and when she saw him start to lean close to her, she snatched the comforter up with a soft squeal and held it up against her front as she turned and dropped her legs off the other side of the bed, putting her back to him. And no. He wasn't done yet. Not by far. See, this is the thing with being in love. At least the person that you torment, tease and torture will forgive you in time.

Hopefully.

When she turned and wrapped the comforter around herself it made his job all the easier. And moving to sit behind her, leaning on one hand and the other raising to draw fingertips lightly along her back from one shoulder to the other to brush her hair over her shoulder and away from his target, and a satisfied smirk feeling her shudder and then the try to fight it. He leaned close, his breath washing against the back of her neck, the braid of blonde hairnow away.. But he had to keep to the plan. And closer still, soft lips pressing against the bare neck and a whispered, "Why Charlotte, my love. And you swore to me last night that you would never forget. You said that even if Cornwallis himself were to torture you to the very end of your life you wouldn't ever forget. Now, truly...I'm shattered." And gently the fingers tugged at the nightshirt to pull it away from her neck just a hint so he could plant a kiss on her soft skin..

Charlotte froze (well amidst the shuddering and twitching from the kiss) and stared at the wall for a long moment and then it hit her. His **birthday**! _**THAT'S **_what she swore to never forget! "You...you dog!" She squeaked as she turned and looked at him as he blinked large 'innocent' eyes from where he was tormenting her by resting his chin on her shoulder and just waiting for her to remember. "You know I should have you taken out and hun -- shot!" she said as she playfully sent an elbow to meet with his gut.

Tavington had to laugh. Outright laugh. For once he had her going. And those moments were very far and few in between. He took the elbow with a quiet grunt and shook his head. "You deserved that one, darling." He said as he watched her profile for a moment. Still not moving from his position and hoping she didn't move from hers. "Found asleep in a bed with someone that's not yet your husband. Why that just screams 'tart' and a few others i won't mention since I love you."

Charotte laughed and shook her head as she leaned back against him. "You are right, sir. But still to do something that evil will require retaliation, you know."

The Colonel only smiled and nuzzled her ear and gently pushed her up to sit up again, "Only for a moment, love," he said quietly, and when she was sitting up, he deftly untied the braid and began running his fingers through her hair to undo it as well. Her hair was always soft and, well, intoxicating. Once the blonde silk was freed, he then slipped a hand on her shoulder and pulled her back against himself. This was how life should be. Only to be with the girl you loved and not having to worry about if you'll come home that evening alone once more.

With a satisfied sigh, Charlotte settled back against him, folding her arms in front of her as she pulled her legs up once more and tucked her feet under her bum. Shifting until she was comfortably nestled against him and closing her eyes as she rested her head back against his shoulder. "That was a rather evil trick you pulled, William. And you shall definitely pay for it."

He merely chuckled softly as she had settled back against him as if it were meant to be this way and his fingertips would gently run up and down her arm. Just feeling her against him and sharing her warmth and taking in her scent was more than anything he could get from drinking the best brandy, eating the finest food, or even winning a battle. "Ooooh surely I've done many other evil things, hmm?"

She gave a soft snort and twitched at his fingers, but didn't pull away. "Well I'm rather sure you have. I just haven't caught you at them because they weren't as blatant as this one. I should banish you from this room altogether." And a playful nod of her head to accent that. She loved being against him. His lean body holding her steady...he was her rock. Her strength. She knew she could count on him to be there for her when she nee -- blink.

He blinked down at her when he felt her tense. "Charlotte? Darling? Are you all right?"

She was frozen. And for a good four minutes she didn't move or even dare to breathe. "W-William...?" She said in a rather shaky voice.

Another blink and okay so now he was concerned. "Yes, sweetheart?" And he tensed as well not liking the unexpected. It never happened to him. He had calculated moves for every time he turned around.

She turned to look at him. Slowly. A lick to her lips as blue eyes focused on him, the slightest hint of narrowing as her brows dipped a bit. "Ea-earlier...you said." And her mind raced to remember the exact words. Wasn't going to be hard since they were now burned in her brain. So it took a while. She's young. "Y-You said earlier...found asleep in a bed with someone that's not **yet**….your husband... " Another blink. This one slower. And for the moment that her eyes were closed, he smiled and leaned forward to press the gentlest of kisses to her forehead and a soft, "Mhmm?"

She opened her eyes once more, searching his face for answers. Oh she knew what they were. But maybe she was terrified of them anyway. "Wh-what did you mean?"

A frown. Small but still significant. "Well I'd hoped that that would have said it all right there." A slight pause as he lifted his eyes to the ceiling and acted as if he was thinking. "Hmmmm...let me see here. Yes. I would have thought. Well let me say it again and maybe figger out a way to word it that might not sound so confusing, hm?" And that infuriatingly condescending smile down at her which he knew drove her nuts but she didn't even flinch this time. Oooh he had her. Hook, line and sinker. "Ah!" he exclaimed as if he'd thought of 'the other way'. "Let's try this, shall we?" And he leaned closer again, brushing his lips against the shell of her ear as he whispered in barely an audible voice. "Charlotte Ryan Martin" and a short pause. Have to build up the drama here! "Would you do this Colonel the honour of becoming his wife. For now. For the rest of his life. I know it's rather a hard decision since he's such a 'beast' and all. And how he loves to play 'evil tricks' on you. But I'm afraid he's fallen so deeply in love with you that he can't see any way free. And if he were to lose you." He pulled back just a bit to look into her eyes. "He'd simply die."

Blink.

His smile this time wasn't the condescending one. Nor the small one so much the 'little boy' he still had in him that no one ever saw but her. This smile was pure and genuine love and adoration for the girl that sat against him. "Are you all right, sweetheart?"

Charlotte didn't know what to say. But she did know what to do. And in a moment of pure joy, she pounced on him, wrapping her arms around him, hugging him tight and pressing her lips to his in one of the most passionate of kisses.

Finally when they had to either pass out from lack of oxygen or break apart to breathe - the latter being chosen - she had begun crying and laughing which only made his smile even broader. "Yes, Colonel ! Yes I'll marry you!"

_And woe to the soldier that knocked on the door to interrupt them at that moment._


	3. Chapter 3

Charly hummed softly as she held up the beautiful gown against her and watched her reflection in the full-length mirror in front of her. The dress was satin and lace. A low neckline (maybe a bit 'too' low for her modesty!) and short puffed sleeves. The dress was a general color of powder blue and the lace was white. There was also a set of long gloves that went to her elbows that were the same pale blue with tiny pearls from the wrist to about halfway up.

There was to be a ball in a week and a half. It seemed Cornwallis needed to make himself feel 'important' again and thus had invited all of the military officers and brass he knew and their wives. The generals were all expected to attend and the invitations were extended to the majors and colonels and captains at the fort as well. That was two months ago.

Nothing of a surprise when Tavington hadn't "really" been invited - or let's say, not 'expected' to attend. But when he advised Cornwallis he would in fact be there. And bring someone with him. The rumors and innuendos flew as to which horse was the lucky date but he didn't hear any of it. He knew he'd have the most wonderful lady there so he merely smirked when he heard the jokes and went on with duties until then.

One duty had been to get the gown for Charlotte. He'd known that some of the women attending the ball had connections in New York and were getting their own dresses from makers there so he contacted one or two and finding someone reliable, he commissioned - listen to him! Everything was not the war, Colonel! He "paid" for the dress and waited until it arrived 3 weeks later. Getting the girl's size wasn't an issue. He had a good eye for things of that sort and had told the maker what (he hoped) she liked. When the gown arrived, Charly - AHEM! _Charlotte_ was thrilled. She wouldn't stop going on about it and the fine silk and the gorgeous pearls. The gloves. The petticoats that would have to be underneath it all... She had everything...

"To be a princess." She said softly as she looked at the gown up against herself for the 100th time in the last 2 weeks. The time was drawing near for the ball. They'd known about it for so long and at first he'd "expected" she attend with him. Then a week ago he'd asked if she wouldn't mind. Charly spun around once more just imagining what it was going to be like. Being not very rich she'd never had a gown like this and never attended such a ball. She'd seen preparations going on for the last few days and was starting to get a bit nervous, but being on William's arm she knew nothing in the world would hurt her.

Ten days. They had ten days.

She was so busy watching the reflection in the mirror that she didn't hear the Colonel in the doorway and a smile as he watched her as well. "Some things just can't be any more perfect," he said that soft baritone washing over the quiet of the room.

Charly jumped a bit but then a shift of blue eyes in the mirror to catch him and a shy little smile. "And how long have you been standing there, sir?"

A shrug and he straightened up and walked in slowly, over to behind her to catch her fully as if she had the dress on as well. "Only for a minute or two, how are you doing, love?"

Charly brought her glance back to the dress, her, and the Colonel all in the mirror. "I'm doing fine. Nervous...I guess, though."

He chuckled softly and shook his head just a bit, leaning down to kiss the back of her neck and a soft mumble. "You will be...the finest woman there. And damned be to the very ninth level of Hell who says different."

Charly trembled feeling the kiss and his breath and leaned back against him just a bit. _Her support_, remember? And the smallest of smiles which was to vanish only a moment later, when she asked, "William, how do they...dance...in England?"

A blink at the question. "How do we..." he left off."Well just as you dance here in the Colonies, I'd assume, hm?" And with a want to continue the talking later, he went back to nuzzling at the wisps of hair she that had fallen when she had pulled her hair up into a ponytail earlier that morning.

Charly watched them both in the mirror and chewed at her bottom lip. "I'm serious. What if I make a fool of you?"

A soft sigh and a gentle chuckle as he shook his head and turned his gaze to look at her in the mirror. Their eyes locked and one hand slipped around her waist pulling her close against him. "There is no way in Heaven or on Earth you could ever embarrass me, sweetheart. Now relax." And this was true. Tavington had stayed away from the 'affairs' of Cornwallis as long as he could. He didn't care for the drunken ladies and the general idiocy of the whole thing. But here...here he had a reason to show them all up. Here...he would prove to be the better man. And here...he would make the announcement of engagement.

She studied his eyes for a long moment. She was still nervous. And he could tell.

"Charlotte, I have something for you." he said softly with a half-smile. And with his other hand which he had been holding behind his back, he brought out a small plain paper wrapped package and held it up in front of her. Charly's eyes brightened and so did her smile as she took the gift with one hand, refusing to let the dress go and reluctantly doing so when he finally took it from her and laid it across the foot of the bed.

"May I open it now?" she asked, moving along and following him, her eyes still on the present.

"Of course you may." was his answer and he sat down on the bench at the foot of the bed as well. Charly sat beside him and with all the aplomb of a kid at Christmas, she tore off the paper and found herself looking at a small metal box. Delicately carved, with a glass inset on the lid. The filigree over the glass was molded in the shape of a firefly. Head, body and wings. All very general but all Charly knew. She lifted the lid and found the inside a rich deep green velvet. She felt her eyes welling with tears and looked up at him. "It's a beautiful jewelry box. Thank you," she said quietly and leaned up to kiss his cheek.

"Ah, but wait! The old Colonel has a few surprises still in him," he said with a smile as he closed the box in her hand and turned it over to turn the key on the bottom and then a quiet, "Go on. Try it again."

She opened it once more and the softest strains of a gentle waltz floated through the room. Charly had to seriously fight the onslaught of tears. She finally "Ahem"med and gently set the small box down and stood up, taking his one hand in two of hers and tugging. "Come with me! Up on your feet, Colonel!"

A confused look but not able to deny her anything, he stood. "What's wrong, Charlotte?"

She shook her head and rested one hand on his shoulder and turned the grip on his other hand to lay her hand in it. "You, Colonel Tavington, shall teach me to dance like they do in England. So I will in no way be a hindrance to you in 2 weeks at this...silly ball." And she began stepping slowly with the music.

Tavington had to chuckle at her and shook his head as he took the lead and began to float with her across the floor. The music. The night. It was all going to be so special. He'd give his life if only he could make her half as happy as he was at this moment.

Around the room they moved, slowly and gently. Humming softly along with the music box. He watched her for the longest time and then when a look crossed her face, he said softly, "Charlotte, what's wrong, darling? You seem perplexed? You're doing everything right."

She had been staring at the second button on his coat. The red coat he wore as his uniform. He'd come from a meeting with Cornwallis when he'd caught her looking in the mirror and hadn't even taken time to shed the coat. She sighed softly and looked up at him, their gazes meeting. "Will...why don't you ever call me 'Charly'? That's what my family all called me. It's what my friends all used. Yet you use the proper."

He smiled and his hand on her waist pulled her just a bit closer. Still leaving a good foot between them as propriety demanded, but to let her know he understood, fingers would dig into her for a moment of recognition.

"Because." He said simply.

Normally she wouldn't have taken that answer if God himself had said it. But from him? She was willing to accept and agree to it.

He was waiting for the comeback and when he didn't get it, he went on. "You are a lady. Not some child or better yet not a boy. Whereas others in your familial circle may have used it as a 'nickname' or term of endearment...I find that when I'm with an angel God has created that is more beautiful than even the sunsets he offers every night, I have no logical reason in my being to call her anything else than what she had been bestowed with on her birth. Others may call you what they wish, Charlotte. But if you wouldn't mind I would prefer to remain calling you what your name truly says. You are strong...and most fierce. Intelligent and loyal. These are attributes that you need to survive in times like this." And then a "stern" look down at her in a 'warning" way. "And I'd expect you to act as such, milady, during this affair."

She snorted softly and tilted her head up in that truly classic 'Let them eat cake" pose and he back stiffened. "I shall, my Colonel. And let no one attending say a word against the most fearsome and bravest protector there. Or else they shall have to deal with me!"

They laughed and relaxed and finally when he mumbled softly, "Dancing lesson is over," he pulled her close against him and wrapped his arms around her but they kept moving as the gentle strains of the music box faded out. He rested his chin on the top of her head and stared out the open door to the balcony. Thinking.

"Charlotte...?" He asked in almost a whisper.

When he pulled her closer, she slipped her arms around his waist and melted against him. They were _meant_ to be together. They just...fit! And her eyes had closed as she listened to his steady heartbeat. "Yes?"

"I --" but he didn't get it out. There was a thudding on the door which scared them both and he jumped, but tightened his hold on her instinctively. A soft growl and a kiss to the top of her head before he let her go and moved across the room. Captain Wilkins stood there, harried and an apologetic look offered to Charlotte before his gaze turned to Tavington.

"There'd better be a good explanation, _Captain_." The Colonel snarled.

"Colonel! The militia has trapped 10 officers and General Cornwallis has told me to fetch you as the leader is demanding that you come yourself to treaty and return them."

Tavington frowned. "Why me? What makes this so important that I --"

"It's the Ghost, Colonel. And he wants you."

Tavington looked over his shoulder at the girl and a heavy sigh. "All right. Get my horse." There was no time for good byes. But Charly -- _Charlotte_ knew. She offered a small smile and moved to the bench at the end of the bed.

She'd wait for him.


	4. Chapter 4

After leaving the fort, Colonel Tavington rode ahead of the Dragoons that were in three lines of four. Captain Wilkins was just behind and to his left as they galloped up to the farmhouse. A hand rose to stop the troops and he sat on the large chestnut horse watching the surrounding area.The militia. Sneaky bastards.

There was no sign of them...or of captured British officers. Obviously this was a trap. But just in pure interest, he waited. His Dragoons sat patiently as the horses snorted and stomped and the jingles of bits being chewed on were the only sounds. Tavington sighed softly as pale blue eyes watched the shadows. Even by now there should have been an attack. Not that he was worried. He knew they had enough Dragoons but this intolerable...

But then there was a shot.

The ball whizzed past Tavington's left ear, catching him but not hurting more than a sting, but had lodged in the skull of the Dragoon sitting behind him. There were shouts as horses spooked and the Dragoons fought to bring them back in line. But Tavington was more interested in the musket shot. And with a snarl hearing a horse gallop away, he drew his gun and shot blindly but in the direction of the retreating hoof beats and kicked his chestnut in the ribs and the horse took off with a jump. The full moon glowed down on what was a lone silhouette of a rider, a bit scrawny perhaps, riding bareback across a field. As the Dragoons charged after him, Tavington knew he had been set up and it angered him all the more to fairly set him in a rage now.

They chased the rider into the stand of trees on the other side of the field and lost him. They fanned out, slowing around the birches and willows, looking for prints or any clues until one Dragoon finally rode up to the Colonel and pointed to the way he had come from. "A farmhouse, Colonel...past the trees."

An evil smile came across the Colonel's face as he kicked his horse once more and galloped towards the small farmhouse.

When they arrived in the front. he gave a jerk of his head towards the house and the soldiers dismounted and stormed to the door, kicking it down and going in, rousting the farmer and his wife and their two sons. There were shouts and a scream from the woman as they were all restrained. The oldest boy,being near 19 possibly, had tried to attack the guard holding his 15 year old brother.It seemed that the Dragoons had barely touched the oldest boy, but he was bleeding from a wound - hmm, looks like a musket ball shot - in his shoulder. When the Dragoons tried to contain the boy, he tried to jerk back and fight, but finally fell to his knees, dizzy and bleeding more.

"What are you doing? What are you looking for? We have nothing of value to you OR your war!" the farmer bellowed.

"I think not..." Colonel Tavington said quietly as he walked into the fray. The soldiers tightened holds on the family and stood at semi-attention when their leader walked in. The woman's face went pale and the farmer felt his knees go weak. "In fact...I think you can be a 'wealth' of information for me and my Dragoons. And you shall not be harmed if you give me the information I am looking for."

"The Butcher..." the farmer and his wife mumbled together.

"Now now...Is that any way to greet a guest?" Tavington snorted softly and gave a look at the two boys. "What happened to him?" he said as he slowly walked over to the oldest son, glaring eyes staring at the growing splotch of red on the boy's shoulder. The corners of the Colonel's lips quirked in a smirk as he looked up at Wilkins before turning and facing the farmer once more.

"It seems there is at least one here that insists on helping the rebel cause. So yes...you _do_ have something of value for...'our war'. Where. Is. Benjamin Martin?"

There was a complete moment of confusion on the farmer's face and he shook his head. "I know no...Martin."

"That's not what I see in front of my own eyes." Tavington said, a nod at the oldest boy's wound,staring at the other man with a deadly stare. Like a shark. Or a cobra about to strike.

"Please, Colonel...we don't know this man. We're just farmers. We can't even afford a large enough farm to pay what we owe..." the woman begged.

Tavington shifted his gaze to the woman for a moment then that all-too-condescending smile. "Then you won't mind if we burn it to the ground, will you?"

He watched as the other Dragoons came back from a search of the house and announced, "No one else here, Colonel." Tavington nodded and then his gaze back to the farmer and his wife. "Take that one outside." with a nod at the oldest boy. And when the boy was dragged out, the other Dragoons started to drag the youngest boy and their parents out afterhim as well, but Tavington put up a hand to stop them.

"Leave them here."

The Dragoons nodded and tied them all up, throwing them down on the small room floor and stepping over them to go outside. And the door was closed and blocked from the outside. And one of the Dragoons rode up to the thatch-roofed house with a blazing torch.

Tavington climbed back up onto his horse after taking the reins from the Captain once more and situated himself on the saddle before asking, "All right, let's try this once more, shall we?"

The boy was in a panic. "PLEASE! Colonel!" and then a softer tone as he looked at the house. "It was all me. I knew you'd come if word got to you that The Ghost wanted to meet with you...I...I didn't " well he couldn't SAY he didn't mean it. He'd wanted to kill the man. He wanted the glory. But now he knew they'd all pay for his stupidity. And a look up at the Colonel with pleading in his voice. "Please don't hurt my family!"

The Colonel watched him for only a moment and then the quickest of glances at the soldier with the torch who stepped another foot closer to the house and Tavington said aloud for all to hear, "Then let this be an example as to what will happen when Benjamin Martin decides to play games with the Green Dragoons and recruit the ineffectual. He will lose. Every time."

And with that, the roof was lit on fire and his gun drawn, Tavington shot the boy directly through the stomach. When the young man fell to the ground, dying slowly and painfully, listening to his family being burned alive, The Butcher and his troops charged off into the darkness once more.


	5. Chapter 5

He left his horse with the groom that held the reins when he dismounted once the Dragoons were back at the fort. A short snap of an order at the young man and Tavington headed into the building then up the stairs to his room. He opened his room door and walked in, a gentle kick with his foot at it behind him to close it and he stood there for a moment, staring at the all-too-inviting bed. He was tired and knew this would be a long night ahead, but still he had to check in on Charlotte.

_Charly_.

Pause.

"No. That would never do." He mumbled to himself quietly, as he untied the cravat and let his shirt hang open. Charlotte is going to have to just get used to the fact that he was going to call her her _proper_ name. Silly nonsense. Why would a girl want to be called a boy's name anyway?

A sigh, which turned into a yawn, as he slipped off his jacket, hanging it on the hook on the back of the door, and then moved over to the bed. He sat down on the edge of his bed for a moment, elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.

_It's your job. It's what you do._ He finally stood up and stretched and walked over to the door between his and Charlotte's rooms. A soft knock and a quiet, "Charlotte. Are you all right?"

There was the gentle click of the latch and the door opened a few inches. She stood in the opening of the door, dressed in that nightshirt he had given to her the first night at the Fort to use since she hadn't had any clothes when they'd caught her, big blue eyes looking up at him under the veil of blonde bangs and a smi—huh?

She pushed the door open all the way and grabbed his arm, dragging him into her room and sitting him down on the bench at the foot of her bed. She bent over him, fingers gently tracing down from his temple along his jaw line. "What the **_hell_** happened? What did they **_do_** to you? I _swear_, William, I'm going to have a _talk_ with my father about this and you can rest assured he will **not **hear the end of –"

He was confused when she grabbed him and sat him down, and then at her sudden tirade. But when he felt her fingers trace against his left temple and down the side of his face, it hit him. _The musket ball. Where he'd gotten hit_. And he had to laugh quietly as she ranted and raged, then watching her as she stomped (yes, the girl stomped. Quite well, actua—AHEM) and that same smirk as she gathered a wet cloth from the basin and came back over, pressing the cloth against his – **OW!** – ear.

"Charlotte Ryan! That _hurts_!" he yelped and jerked back from the wet cloth and the sting.

She frowned and grabbed his chin with fingers of one hand while she_ gently_ pressed and dabbed the cloth against his ear and wiped the blood from the side of his face. "I swear you men are such babies sometimes." She grumbled softly. But now she was decidedly more careful with her pressing and cleaning of the Colonel. "Next time I should go with you." She'd meant it as a joke – no. she didn't. And he knew it when he reached up to take her wrist and pull her hand away, pale blue eyes staring into her blues.

"No. You won't." he said flat and decisively. This was the voice that there was no argument to and no begging for.

Charly watched him for the longest time and when his grip began to tighten on her arm, she whimpered softly and wrenched away slowly, but her eyes narrowed. "What's wrong? It was a joke."

He let her go willingly and a heavy sigh as he looked down at the floor and shook his head. "I'm sorry, love. It's just that….it's too bloody dangerous out there." A pause. "F-For….for you. Of course." And he looked up at her, that smile back and a lean close to press a kiss to her forehead. "And I would rather risk my own life than put yours in jeopardy."

Charly stared at him for the longest moment and another gentle swipe of the cloth again to make sure all of the blood on him was gone. "Or is it because of the fact that people call you _The Butcher_…and you really don't want to prove them right?" And a slow blink up at him.

Tavington locked his gaze onto hers and forced a small smile. "Those days are all behind, sweetheart. Yes I've done things that weren't….nice. But it seems that I've found a reason to…." And his voice drifted off. Unable to finish the lie…or unwilling.

Charly studied him for the longest moment and a small smile and a nod as she leaned up to brush her lips against his and a whispered, "That's good. I don't like the fact that everyone around here talks about you behind your back and I can't fight them. Makes me feel…..impotent."

Tavington had to laugh at that one and the slightest shake of his head as he returned the lip brush and even tossed in an Eskimo kiss or two. "Now that, Miss Martin, I find very….very….hard to believe."

Charly pulled back just a bit. She knew he was hiding something. And one way or another she was going to find out what.


	6. Chapter 6

Who would have guessed the days would go by so quickly.

As if no time had passed, Charly was looking at herself in that full length mirror once more, but this time she was wearing the dress instead of just...wondering. It fit to her like it had been made to her every...inch.

The pale blue brought out her eyes and even with her hair up, there were those few swirls of curls that refused to be held or tamed and fell to frame her face. Finally giving up on them, she had been inspecting herself with all the critiquing that she knew the other partygoers would be watching her with.

"You look..." she heard his voice and turned to face him, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she slowly walked over to him, but halfway there, she turned in a slow spin, and her hands moved behind her, catching each other.

"So I take it...the Colonel approves?" she asked softly, a slight one-shouldered shrug.

Tavington watched her as she moved and slowly nodded. Pale blue eyes taking in every move she made...every breath she took. And a slow lick to dry lips. "The Colonel...approves...very much...milady." he said as he fought to think of the words he had to use.

Charly walked on over to him and went around. looking him up and down before coming back to stand in front of him as he stood there, feet just a bit in an 'at ease' stance with one hand behind his back as he always stood. Full dress uniform. At least everything but the hat. _Good thing_, Charly thought but she vocalized instead, "My my my..." with that smile still firmly in place. "You seem to clean up well...if I may say so myself, sir." And a dip of her head at her approval, and then she headed over to the bed and picked up fan that matched her dress and then back over to him, holding her hand out. "Shall we?"

Tavington smirked and offered a bow before taking her arm and wrapping it around his and taking her downstairs to the party.

The hall was decorated fabulously. Gold and white materials to drape over the beams in the high ceiling. White tablecloths on all the tables. Food and drinks plenty. All of the officers and their women strolling the floor and even outside on the grounds. And Charly tightened her hug around his arm when they walked in through the open doors.

The Colonel smiled as he patted her arm but wouldn't let anything faze him tonight. "Come along, dear," he said softly and when they walked into the room...heads began turning. Charly's gown wasn't as 'rich' as the others, but it was grand. One that would rival any of the colonials at a ball. But these women. They had their wigs and their dresses that were made of silks and lace and gold. Charly trembled knowing she was being stared at but she also knew the Colonel was counting on her to be herself. So? Back was straightened, chin tilted just a bit so that perfect little nose was a bit higher in the air and she walked with that air as if she belonged there all the time. Tavington felt her body's stance change and a small smile crossed his lips. Lords and ladies be damned...he had the pride of the Ball.

As they strolled, he got her a glass of champagne and they walked and talked briefly with Wilkins and then with Bordon. Charly didn't care much for the first...but that Bordon fellow was quite all right. He was pleasant and charming and as soon as Tavington realized how she was getting along with his Captain, he made an excuse to go outside and steered her clear from the others and out the double doors to the grounds.

"Enjoying yourself so far, Charlotte?" he asked as he took a sip from the glass he held in his free hand, leading her to a relatively unpopulated part of the grounds so he would have her to himself.

Charly nodded emphatically. "It's all wonderful, William. Thank you for bringing me."

He looked down at her and shook his head with a chuckle. "Don't thank me, milady. You've done more for me tonight than I could ever even hope to ask for. This is your night." And he gently clinked the glass he held to hers as he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her hair.

"Well isn't that sweet..." the cackle of something akin to the devil...or maybe a minion...would shatter the quiet around the couple. Tavington sighed softly as his eyes closed but didn't pull away from Charly immediately.

"What do you want, Elizabeth?" he mumbled in a soft growl. Obviously this woman that stood before them wasn't one of the Colonel's favorites. Let alone anyone he'd chat with in a normal tone.

"Just wanted to come see for m'self that it was true, William --"

"Colonel." he said as a 'reminder'.

"--that you'd chosen a..._colonial_ to bring to the affair."

Tavington looked down at Charly who had pressed a bit closer to him and his arm slid free from hers and moved around her to hold her close."This is Charlotte." But his gaze never left Charly. "This...is Elizabeth."

The other woman had a hawk-nose and cold black eyes. Her face painted in the garish white makeup didn't help any of the fact that she looked like a ghoul but the bright red lips were what scared Charly the most. That woman could eat anyone up with one bite. She was _sure_ of it. But for Tavington, she smiled and a slight dip of her head. "Charmed I'm sure."

Elizabeth was at least as old as the Colonel, if not a few past, and more of a harpy as anything else. She glared at the girl and a snort as she turned her attention back to him. "William, come walk with me. We must discuss things."

Tavington glared at the woman and a quiet growl once more. "_Colonel_. And we have nothing to discuss."

"Ah but you're wrong. You see...the General is waiting for the announcement of our plans."

Tavington blinked as if completely confused - which actually he was - and icy blue stare narrowed at her. "What the bloody hell are you saying? We have no..._plans_!" His grip on Charly tightened slightly and she had to snicker inside. She knew this would happen. She felt it coming. But she just wished that Satan hadn't sent one of his own minions to do it.

Ew.

"Well of course we do, my dearest William. There's the engagement party and the wedding. All of that to do unless you want me to go ahead and plan it in your stead since you're so busy with your job." Elizabeth let her gaze shift to the girl once more before she added, "I understand being The Butcher and all...can take all the time out of one's day. All those darned colonials to torture."

Tavington wanted to reach out and throttle this woman where she stood. But then that wouldn't do much for disproving what she just said, would it? Damnit. And the growl grew a bit louder. "Elizabeth...go. Away. I'm not marrying you nor am I ever planning on talking to you civilly if you _don't_ leave this instant and take those candied notions of you and I _ever_ being together out of your head." And as his arm tightened a bit more around Charly, he turned to guide her off and they were merely 10 feet when the woman spoke once more.

"So is it true you have plans to kill her brother you have hostage..._Colonel_?"

Tavington froze. But then so did Charly.

Charly looked up at him and blinked and then over her shoulder at the minion. "Wha-what?" she said softly.

Elizabeth laughed like a cackling monkey, waving her fan as she talked. "It's true, colonist. Your..._escort_ there has your older brother hidden away and as far as any of us know is torturing him to find the whereabouts of your father. The one man he will never catch. The one man that he will lose everything to." Then a shift of her gaze up to Tavington and still to Charly. "So..Is he still 'your hero' now?"

Charly began to panic. She looked up at him and whispered, "You have Gabriel?"

Tavington looked down at Charly first then he whirled on Elizabeth. "Listen to me, you sottering old cow..." softly as he approached her, index finger raised as he pointed at her while he snarled. At least that would keep the gun out of his hand. "If you _don't_...leave me alone this_...instant..._I will _personally_ put you on a ship for China and sell you as fodder for their livestock. _Got it_!" And not stopping until he was invading her personal space to the point where they were almost nose to nose. He was turning red in the face trying to hold himself back and he was realizing it might not work if she opened her mouth again.

Elizabeth just snorted at him. "Nice threat, _Colonel._" And her gaze shifted to the girl behind him. "But I'd think that your time will be better spent talking to your little toy over there about how you planned to use her all along." And her gaze shot back to him. "Everyone figured it out weeks ago, William." And a smirk. "Especially since you keep using her as a teaser to get to her brother. So tell me..." and she took his glass of champagne from his hand and finished it off, handed it back to him and said with the most evil smirk on her lips and in a softer voice so only he and Charly would hear. "When can they expect to drag the swamp for her used body?"

Tavington was about to kill this woman. He glared into her eyes and mumbled with a soft voice that would rival the Devil's himself. "You...are a soulless bitch that's been spat out of Hell to do only one thing. Destroy human lives." And then a soft smile as his fingertips traced gently against her cheek but in one lightening move, that hand drew back and slapped her hard across that same cheek and he snarled. "If I were you? I'd make sure to keep my doors locked at night...for the rest of your pathetic life...or else the body they pull from the swamps might be yours." And he whirled on his heel, and strode past Charly, taking her forearm in his grip and leading her back to the party. He stopped and mumbled something to Captain Bordon who nodded and slipped away from the woman he had been talking to, and finally Tavington stopped once he found a quiet place once more, but he knew they had to be careful since there were a few couples nearby.

"Don't think on what she said, Charlotte." he said softly as he had to force himself to stop shaking from the rage he had just fought off.

Charly watched him closely, ignoring the other couples, but a hint of confusion that was mixing with other emotions now in her eyes. "Y-You have...Gabriel?"

Damnit. And he looked at her and tried desperately to lie. To fake the truth. Whatever you wanted to all it. But those blue eyes watching him...and he finally sighed and nodded. "He'd been shot. And we were trying to help him..."

Her eyes narrowed at him as she walked closer. "Then why not take him to a field hospital...or bring him here? Why didn't you...tell me about him?"

He wasn't going to be able to handle this for long and he knew it. "Charlotte please, we can talk about this all later after the Ball. Right now I --"

But she cut him off. "I wish you'd answer me straight, William! What are you doing to my brother and I want to see him!"

He looked down at her and shook his head. "It's not something a young lady should see, Charlotte. Trust me. I've been in far more battles than you and it's...not pretty."

A soft growl and she glared at him. "Take. Me. To. Him."

Tavington knew he couldn't. And he shook his head and decided the tone had to change. And with that previous tone of _'Don't argue'_, he said gently, "Not now, love. When he's better I shall take you. But until then, no."

Charly started to argue back anyway...well she was a spitfire...but she knew she'd never get anywhere with it so she turned and ran off, heading around to the front of the mansion. Tavington dropped his empty glass and mumbled, "Bloody hell," as he took off to follow her.

Around the front, Charly ran to the nearest carriage and in a matter of seconds she had the horse unbound and was on its back, a handful of mane and kicking it in the ribs. The horse literally was flying down the road as she heard the Colonel behind her running up and shouting orders for his own horse to be brought out, trying to keep an eye on her, but losing her in the darkness. Finally when the chestnut was brought out, he mounted up and barked a command to the lieutenant to round up Bordon and a troop and send them out to find the escaped prisoner.

"Prisoner, sir?" the Lieutenant asked.

"Charly..." Tavington said, and jerked his horse around and kicked it hard to get him to race and catch up with the girl.


	7. Chapter 7

She'd lost him finally. Well, knowing the 'lay of the land' and all having been here a few more years than Tavington had been….

She couldn't go back to where Fresh Water had stood. That would be the first place the Butcher would look. She pulled the horse up at the end of the road that headed up to the house, and the gelding snorted, and came to a halt as she set her gaze on the large white mansion just yards up the way. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip and set back in the saddle, a soft chuck of her tongue and she pulled the reins off to the left, guiding the horse into the brush and to the trail she and her brothers always used when trying to hide from chores when they were younger.

Not enough room on the trail and not enough light from the moon to guide the inexperienced, but Charly knew every rock and leaf by heart. Soft murmurs to the horse who picked his way along, every once in a while the girl looking over her shoulder to make sure the Dragoons were nowhere around.

The Colonel rode up the road to the remains of the large white mansion. He roughly pulled back on the reins and the chestnut let a whinny escape as he plowed to a hard stop, fore hooves digging into the dirt and his back end nearly sitting as he and the Colonel slid the last 4 feet until they finally stopped.

Tavington jumped off of the horse, a quick pat to the animal's lathered shoulder, and he headed for the rubble. Staring at the pile of burnt wood and various metal objects in the pile, he growled softly. Icy blue eyes would loft to look around the area. Any signs of movement. Any hint of a noise.

Nothing.

He sighed and turned, heading back to his horse and gathering the reins when a small platoon of nearly 7 Dragoons arrived, riding hard as well. Bordon halted them and watched as the Colonel again mounted the chestnut and pulled – a bit gentler this time – on the reins, the horse whinnied again and rose a bit on rear legs as he spun to face the corps or soldiers behind them. A head toss and chewing angrily on his bit would garner him another hardy pat, but this one to his neck.

"Search the woods. She has to be close by." Tavington commanded as he gave the horse a nudge to the ribs with his knees and the animal bolted first but set into a slow walk. Bordon and the others spread out, fanning the property, the torches of the riders lighting the vicinity of their immediate being.

Tavington didn't use one.

He knew that if she _was_ still around, the torch would merely alert her. So this had to be done with….stealth. Back down the plantation road to the main road. He pulled up his horse once ore and sat, looking first up one way and down the other. The horse shifted under him and snorted gently. Tavington took a full five minutes to watch and thi—wait.

Slowly he dismounted, dropping the reins and a gentle stroke down the horse's forehead, and stepped across the road to a parting in the brush. He looked back over his shoulder at the white fence that surrounded the property and then back at the brush. Hmm.

The parting wasn't actually noticeable unless you were looking at it for a time and….well, thinking. But he _had _been looking. And he _had_ thought. And contrary to popular belief, he had been a boy once.

He stepped into the brush and immediately found himself on the trail. A smirk and he stepped forward a bit faster as he followed what prints of the horse's hooves he made out in the dirt before him. Of course looking down meant that he wasn't watching what was ahead. And this was very unlike the Colonel. Another hundred yards, and he came upon a small clearing. One that held a small fire, a horse chewing on some grass….and a girl.

More specifically. Charlotte.

He stepped forward, a grin on his face. "Charlotte….you had me insane with worry! Come along, darling; let's go back to the fort." A fast look around but his attention wasn't on the area. It was strictly on her and how much he wanted to pick her up and throw her over that horse and take her back to the fort and _then_ he'd deal with this whole childish issue of running away.

"Your dress is ruined it would seem." The smile fading a bit when he realized she was merely sitting by the fire and only watching him. "Charlotte? What's wrong, sweethea –"

He'd never finish it.

Suddenly there was the sound of a rush of bushes and as he saw some men invade the clearing. He tried to run to the girl, but suddenly his world went black as he fell, face down into the grass.

Charly stood up and snarled at Billings, "You didn't _have_ to hit him that hard!" And she jumped to her feet and ran over to the unconscious Dragoon and glared up at the figure that walked out and up to stand on the Colonel's other side.

"Let's go, Charly." The quiet baritone mumbled.

She was torn now. She'd been talked into this plot to save her brother. Again. But this time there were….different circumstances. And a soft whimper as she pulled Tavington's head into her lap and cradled him gently, blood oozing from a cut on the back of his head where the butt of the gun had crashed into his skull. "He's hurt. We have to get him help."

The men around shuffled and put out the fire and took the reins of the horse and brought him around. Two of them grabbed the Dragoon Colonel by the upper arms and lifted him gruffly up, then threw him over the horse's back. "NO!" she cried out. "You'll kill him!"

She whirled and glared at the man standing now behind her. "There were other ways to do this. I could have gotten to Gabriel and had h him released."

Benjamin Martin watched his daughter for the longest minute and there was a soft sorrow I his eyes. But soon enough he nodded at the horse and told her, "Go on. Mount up. We need to get back to the camp before we ruin our chances."

And without another word, Martin turned and headed for his own horse that had been brought into the clearing as the others had already mounted up and were waiting for their own Colonel. Charly clambered up onto the back of the horse that held the Dragoon Colonel, but instead of handing her the reins, she noted that Billings kept them and mounted up on his own horse, leading them along with the others. "Give me the – " she started, but he shook his head and when she turned to complain to her father, he merely turned his horse and started off back to the military camp.

Wait a minute….what the hell…..


	8. Chapter 8

Charly paced the tent. For the second straight hour.

She had no clue what was going on. Since they had been brought to the militia camp, she had been taken off of the horse and to this tent where 2 guards were placed on the opening. Not even giving her a chance to check on Tavington, or even see where they'd taken him. And it scared her.

Finally she gave up and sat down on the edge of the cot, burying her face in her hands with her elbows on her knees. She heard a noise and looked up as the flap was thrown open and her father walked in. Charly jumped to her feet and growled as she stormed over to him. "What in the name of all that's holy do you think you're _doing_? I need to see if William's all right! But these...these _buffoons_." and a wave of her arms at the entranceway he had just come though,".won't let me **out** of here!"

Martin looked down at his daughter for a long moment and a sigh. "Charly...don't talk like that. It's not respectful...and it's for your own protection. I can't let you roam the camp. Someone may thi--"

"Everyone here knows me! What're you getting at? Why're you..." but the question would go unfinished as her mouth kept open and a look of unbelieving crossed over her face. "You...think I can't be..._trusted_?" And blue eyes narrowed.

Martin pinched his eyes together and turned to walk off to the other side of the tent. "Charly, it's not that easy. There are...others here that may think you were...well that you went to their side. Especially since we tried to help you escape and you refused."

She stayed where she was for a minute...her gaze shifting from him to the entrance flap and then back to him. "You can't be..._serious_! You think..." and her eyes narrowed as she slowly walked over to stand behind him. "You _think_...I'd compromise the safety of this camp...because I love him?"

Martin blinked and whirled on her. "Really, now, Charly! You're nothing but a trophy to him! He doesn't love you...he's using you as a way to get to us...he's a...NO, Charlotte Ryan Martin! You are **not** in love with _that_!" and he pointed in the direction of the way they had dragged Tavington off to.

Charly growled louder and snapped back. Ever hear of the immovable object and the irresistible force? You had a great example right here. Both were stubborn and hardheaded. If Tavington had seen this he wouldn't have questioned where she had inherited it from. "You...are **insane**...if you think I'm going to accept this. I didn't come back because I have _nothing_ to come back to and he _needs_ someone." And as her eyes brimmed with tears, a softer tone, but only for a bit. "He _needs_ me."

Martin couldn't help it and he advanced the three steps on his oldest daughter and grabbed her upper arms, holding her close so she couldn't back up. "Charlotte, you have no clue what this man has done! He's **earned** the nickname The Butcher NOT by being _nice_ to people! Don't you understand? He cares n_othing_ for you at all!"

Charly wriggled and tried to break loose which she finally did and she indeed backed off a couple of steps. ": You're _JUST_ as bad then! I've seen you! I've heard what you've done! YOU only justify it to fit 'the cause'!" A snort but she still glared at her father. "Everything you ever taught us...went right out the door. All that 'civility'...all that...'caring for your fellow man' ... it's all crap. Isn't it?" she had calmed down but now the tears were escaping. "You're no better than King George. At least he said what he was going to do and stuck with it. He didn't doubletalk anyone."

Martin drew a deep sigh and shook his head. "Charly...don't."

"Don't what? You don't even trust your own daughter any more. What's left for me? What do you plan on doing with me now...? Arresting me? Putting me in some camp jail? Shoot me?" But the tears would dry soon enough as another wave of rage swept over her.

"We just need to take care of the Colonel and then you're free again."

She stared into his eyes for the longest minutes. "Take care of...what do you mean by that?"

Martin watched her for a minute and then shook his head and turned away, heading to the tent flap again. "Just...stay in here and in a while, after it's done, I'll send someone to relieve the guards and you'll be free."

Charly dashed up to him, grabbed his arm to try and stop him, and felt her face flush. "After '**what's** ' done? What in God's name are you going to DO to him? You have NO right to hurt him! Leave him the hell alone!"

Martin whirled and without thinking about it the back of his hand met her cheek with a crack. The silence that surrounded them was enough to smother both. A hand rose to the stinging flesh and she backed off a good three yards.

"You're even _worse_ than he is..." she said softly, her eyes filling with tears again.

"Charly, I..." but no apology would come. And with a grumble, he turned and stormed out of the tent.

Charly sat down on the edge of the cot again and refused to let herself cry. She had to get to Tavington. And before dawn. Tonight she had to get him out of here.

------------------------------------------------------

Captain Bordon paced the General's office waiting for the page to bring the commander. The Captain was uneasy and afraid for the life of his Colonel and he couldn't help but not show it as he went back and forth on the hearth, staring into the dying embers.

"Captain? What is it you would want from me at this hour of the night?" the general asked as he swept in, a silk dressing robe tied around him, acting as if he was sorely put out by the interruption.

Bordon coughed gently to clear his throat and handed the note he had found to the commander. "We...found this on a tree...held by the Colonel's sword, sir. I wish to take a larger platoon of Dragoons and soldiers and look for him."

Cornwallis looked over the note and then up at Bordon. "No."

Bordon blinked and looked from the note to Cornwallis and back up. "S-Sir...?"

A tired smirk crossed Cornwallis' face as he tossed the note into the fireplace where the embers caught it and a blaze flared as the parchment was burned to ash. "I said...no."

Bordon couldn't believe this. "B-But sir...the militia have him. We _need_ to get him back."

Cornwallis waved a hand at the Captain as he headed back to the door to his private rooms the general held. "Consider him a...'_casualty_' of the war, Captain. I'll have his replacement in the morning for you."

And as he opened the door to his rooms, the general looked over his shoulder at the still stunned Captain and nodded. "Good night, Captain. Sleep well, hm?"


	9. Chapter 9

Colonel William Tavington looked like...well, crap. Felt like it too, actually. No. We can say with all honesty, he felt a lot worse.

Once brought to the camp with Charly, they had dragged him semi-conscious to a tent with nothing in it and threw him on the dirt floor. Guards all around outside every 4 feet which he could see through the material with the torches and fires outside casting silhouettes. He had been dropped to his hands and knees where he stayed for a good 20 minutes, at least until the doctor came in with two guards and ran a check over the Colonel. Mumbling to himself about how barbaric this war had turned, but nothing specifically to the prisoner. The doctor finally placed a cloth over the cut on the back of the Dragoon Colonel's head and wrapped another cloth around it to hold it there. The tottering old man finally stood and made his way out of the tent, still grumbling.

Tavington had stood up straight when the doctor had walked in, but now that the men were gone, he leaned heavily against the center pole for some much needed support. Blue eyes swept around the 20 foot square space and noted that nothing was inside but himself and a heavy sigh escaped him. One hand rose to brush fingertips delicately over the back of his head and a wince which he hadn't even let the doctor see.

"Bloody colonists." he growled softly, but still remembering the one that had gotten him here in the first place. The one that he still wanted. The one he loved.

He closed his eyes for a moment to fight off a wave of nausea that washed over him, but at that same moment, three soldiers, Billings and two others, walked into the tent with nothing but maliciousness in the air around them.

Tavington knew that look. He also knew the way the two advanced on him that he didn't have a prayer of getting out of this. So he only straightened up once more and his eyes took on that icy glare. "What do you want?" he said coolly.

Billings chuckled and shook his head as he walked over to the British colonel and without answering Tavington at first, he looked t the men and the barest of nods. Tavington didn't even jump or make any note he was surprised as the men each grabbed an arm and held the colonel securely. Tavington merely kept his stare on the older man.

"Where's the Martin boy?" Billings growled.

Tavington couldn't help it. And a smirk would tug at his lips as he slid off, "I have no idea who - or what - you're talking about."

Billings growled softly. He had been told to find out _before_ any violence. _then_ he could kill him. But the prisoner was going to make that order a hard one to follow. "Gabriel Martin. I know you know him. You tried to kidnap him once before and now you finally got him." He walked up to invade Tavington's personal space and snarled, his voice softening even through it. "Where. Is. The. Boy?"

The smirk disappeared and he stared at the man in front of him. Unkempt and unwashed and not only was the "being" invading space, but the reek of the man was invading the colonel's olfactory senses, and he twitched a bit. "You know, water would be a very nice friend for you to make." he said softly.

Billings couldn't help it and out of reflex and hatred for the man in front of him, his left fist suddenly plowed into Tavington's gut, a bit to the side and an inch under his last rib. A grunt escaped the colonel as the blow slammed into him but other than that and that he bent slightly to try and absorb some of the shock, Billings would be sorely disappointed in the results. Tavington had dropped his head and was forcing control over himself once more when Billings leaned forward and growled. "We're going to kill you anyways. Y'might as well give up where the boy's at. Save yourself any more pain. Least the colonel will kill you fast."

Tavington finally was able to once more get the control he needed and straightened back up again. That stare back on the man in front of him and the barest of smiles. "Yes, this may be true. But kill me...and you won't know where he is and you won't have a bargaining chip to get the lad, hm?"

Billings almost lost it. He knew! Not like it was a secret. It was one of the only tactics in warfare that was actually fair! But for this creep to use it to his own advantage! And without another word the right fist came up from the ground and crashed into the colonel's jaw. Tavington's head was snapped back and to the side, but he recovered from that one a bit easier since the hit on the back of his head earlier was starting to make him numb and feeling a bit more able to take the blows easier now.

When the colonel turned back to look at Billings, an evil smile tugged at his lips as he also felt a trickle of blood run from the busted and now swelling bottom lip down his chin. "Tsk tsk. One would think you're a...monster, for such _brutality_ against a prisoner. Wouldn't you think?"

Tormenting would work on both sides, prisoner and guard. But not necessarily to the point where it was really fun on the former's end. Tavington knew this, but still, the old ways wouldn't change and he felt the need to want to drive this man over the edge. If he died in the process? Well, let's just say that he could die in the line of battle and be buried with honors then.

But Billings didn't see honor or much of anything now. The rage he felt was when he saw his house burned to the ground and his wife and son missing. The rage when he saw friend after friend falling to the ground dead. When he'd seen the look on Charly's face that told him that the innocence had been lost. Maybe not physically, but mentally. She'd never be that wonderful child he'd seen growing up. None of the colonial Americas would ever be the same again. But then war does that to people. And it also does something else.

It turns them into beasts without them even thinking about it. There is one goal in mind, and that is to win. No one ever thinks of the consequences involved to get there.

With a roar, Billings began laying blows on the restrained British colonel with both fists now as the other two held him up for the assault. Tavington couldn't keep track of which blow now hurt more or couldn't even remember why he had urged the man into this at all. All he knew was that he most likely would die at the hands of this militia soldier and that angered him more than anything. After a round of blows and feeling like a shirt after the morning's washboard experience, he snarled and tried to jerk his arms free from the guards holding him. Blood covered his chin now since three of the raining blows had broken two teeth and cracked his jaw. His guts were blazing with pain and he felt three of his ribs broken, hearing the dull snaps inside of him.

The guards weren't' expecting the yank since he'd been mostly non-reactive for the whaling so when he jerked his arms, they came free from the guards easily and with a growl deep in his battered chest, Tavington leaped at Billings. There was a surprised yelp as the colonel slammed into the smaller portlier man, but the surprise attack knocked him backwards and off balance. In a state of semi shock, Billings reached for his musket and fumbled with it as the guards tried to jump on Tavington once more to grab the man, but he simply snaked free of the two men and when he saw the gun, a satanic grin was set on his swollen lips and before Billings could even _hope_ to draw a bead on the colonel, the gun would find itself in Tavington's hands and the barrel lifted to the man's head right between his eyes.

"Give my regards to Hell," Tavington snarled and a heartbeat before one of the guards was able to grab for his arm, the trigger was pulled and the musket ball drove into Billing's skull, sending tiny fragments of bone in along with it as it lodged into the man's brain.

There was no sound from the man as he stared still at the colonel with a surprised gawk. And moments after the shot, the other guards from the outside came running in, Tavington dropped the gun and as four guards grabbed the broken and bloodied prisoner, one of the guards hollered out, "Someone fetch Colonel Martin! **NOW!**"

As Billings lay dead on the ground, and the gun was merely inches between them, Tavington looked up at the Captain that had ordered Martin to be sent for and a small smile with a shrug. "Just another day at work, hm, Captain?" And it was a good thing four were holding the man, since no sooner had the question left him, then he fully and completely passed out in their grasp.

The Captain sighed and shook his head as he looked down at Billings. "Idiot." he mumbled and then a nod at three guards. "Take him out of here. And get the doctor again." And he watched as the other guards held up Tavington with somewhat of a struggle. "And get a cot in here. He can't be lying on the ground like that." And one of the guards nodded and left, the Captain stepped off to the side as the activity was bustling in the smallish tent and he pinched his eyes together at the bridge of his nose as he waited for Benjamin.

And he was just wondering how much worse this war could get.

Forty yards and a few tents, away, Charly had heard voices risen, one of which she would know in her sleep. She'd heard it often enough there. She was I a near panic as the voices grew louder and when there was a gunshot she ran out of her tent only to be snagged up by a militia guardsman but this time she wouldn't be stopped. With a howl, she slammed the heel of her small boot down hard on the guard's instep and with a shriek he dropped her and she lifted the heavy skirts of the ball gown and charged to where the men were running in and out of the one tent. She growled and shoved her way through the men, getting inside, and seeing Billings dead on the floor caused a small gasp to escape, but seeing Tavington unconscious and covered in blood didn't help.

She screeched and started to launch herself at the men, but the Captain grabbed her around the wais and whispered into her ear as she fought to get free. "He's _going_ to be all right, Charly! Calm down, Damnit! I've sent for your father, it's not your boyfriend's fault! I _know_ that!"

Charly stopped fighting when he talked to her but her eyes never left the colonel as the cot was brought in and he was laid down on it. The grip around her eased and she looked up and behind her at the Captain. She knew him. She'd seen him at church on Sundays. The young man was hardly older than she was but there was gentleness about him. Even in the middle of all of this.

"Go on. I'll talk to your father outside. I've already sent for the doctor." He said softly with a nod towards the unconscious man. Charly gave the young Captain a small smile and a lean back against him before he had totally let her go to acknowledge what he had said and then she turned her attention to the colonel and with a heavy sigh she walked over and knelt down beside the cot, taking his hand and waiting for the doctor.

And Lord help him if he wasn't there while she was relatively calm now.


	10. Chapter 10

Tavington woke up with a start, jerking himself to a sitting position - which would be a mistake he'd discover - and then a groan when the searing pain tore through him. Ow. Ow. And he gingerly laid back on the cot. He slowly closed his eyes and re-opened them again only to stare at he tent ceiling. All right. Let's gather our whereabouts, shall we, Colonel?

_Fight with Charlotte._

_She ran off I found her._

_Militia found us both._

_Darkness, _

_Woke up in this tent._

_Militia dog comes to torture me, and I kill him._

_Darkness once more._

_Pain, then. Lots of pain._

And one arm raised and dropped over his eyes as it all flooded back to him. He even slightly remembered Charlotte when he woke up again as the doctor was wrapping him up. She'd said something...something that was in a jumble then and damn near impossible to recount now. And remembering how upset she had been that could have been everything from _You're a classic bugger, Tavington_ to_ I hope you die a thousand hideous deaths and to rot in the very ninth layer of Hell since I..._ well you get the idea.

Neither one of them was pleasant to him, but right now nothing was pleasant as his head pounded and he fought the urge to get sick. It wasn't working well at all. Control was always something the Colonel prided himself on. Control of his troops, of his warfare, even of his own destiny. But somewhere along the line he'd lost two parts of that. And the third was inconsequential right now. He slowly sat up, his ribs wrapped tight which offered support, but nothing for the pain. That was what was driving him to distraction.

He slowly and shakily stood from the cot, toddler-stepping to the center pole in the tent which immediately one hand shot out for to grasp and fingers tightened around it to keep h him on his feet. Head dropping forward and eyes closed again and then he knew he'd died since he heard the voice of his angel.

"You shouldn't be out of bed."

Tavington turned _slowly_ and looked over his shoulder at her, a flicker of the smallest smiles. "Well if that's your responsibility then you've failed drastically, nurse." he said and didn't realize how his throat had tightened up so much that barely what came out was a broken croak. Not the commanding one he had always used.

Charly brought the bucket of water in and set it by the cot and sat herself down on the edge still watching him. "I know, that you probably don't really remember what you did last night. But I wanted to say I know I believe you were in peril from that idiot. And I'm...I'm..." her voice drifted off as her gaze dropped tot he ground and a gentle nudge at an invisible rock with her toe. "I'm glad you did it. I wouldn't have wanted to be having to see you there under that sheet instead."

Tavington sighed heavily and turned to look at her rather than over his shoulder any more since that was taking a Herculean effort to stay upright and awake. "Charlotte, I'm s-" but he stopped himself short. Was he sorry? Fir what exactly? That they were born in two separate worlds. That they were caught in the middle of this bloody war? That he knew there was no way he'd ever be happy without her and ... "Maybe you shouldn't be in here, hm? Knowing your father he's already had a fit and would just love to find us alone."

Charly waved him off. "Father knows how I feel about you, William" and she couldn't help the smirk when she saw him flinch at that thought. "I'm sorry I ran off. I was scared and didn't know what else to do. So I thought I could..." she shrugged and her gaze dropped again.

"You, scared?" and a slightly comical tilt to his head as he watched her. "I wouldn't think Charlotte Ryan Martin would be afraid of anything." And he slowly made his way back to the cot and eased down beside her. "Now correct me if I'm wrong. This **is** the same Charlotte that I caught trying to free her brother from a platoon of Dragoons. This **is** the Charlotte that stood up to a rather impressive figger of a Colonel and told him to...what was it now..." and his gaze shifted upwards as if trying to remember the exact phrase. "Ah! That was it. I believe it was 'You can kiss my American-born ass, you vile, loathsome British beast of hell before I tell you anything.' ?" And he couldn't help but chuckle when she looked up at him and pouted.

"That's not fair."

"You never said I had to be fair," he said softly, one hand lifting to brush back tendrils of soft gold that had fallen in the riot that had ensued over the last 12 hours. "Maybe it's best you go on. Family might misinterpret, you know."

Charly studied his face for the longest of moments. "I won't let them hurt you any more," She said quietly.

His smile was genuine but almost sad. He knew he'd hang in the morning. Only another 3 hours away. All they needed was a tree and a rope. And he couldn't force himself to believe they hadn't already found one and set up the grandstands for it. "Go on, love. At least one of us needs their sleep before dawn."

Charly didn't want to go. But she also knew sitting there arguing wouldn't work either. He'd always get his way. Amazing how that worked. She'd always give in no matter what he asked. A slight nod, though at his request and she leaned close and pressed a kiss to his cheek trying not to land it on any bruises. "I'll be back. I promise." she whispered. She stood and headed for the exit, her mind working once more about things. They couldn't do this to him. It was barbaric!

Before she got to the tent flap, he cleared his throat a bit and said more in that voice she knew so well, "Charly?"

She stopped (more like froze) when she heard him call her by her nickname and looked over her shoulder at him.

"I love you. Please always remember that."

That was it. That was the deciding factor that would make Charly - come hell or high water - free the Colonel under any circumstances. Even if she had to fight her own father to do it.

Captain Wilkins rode along the dark road outside of Fresh Water Plantation leading a group of 5 dragoons that surrounded a single rider on a horse. The rider was bandaged and almost falling off his horse and definitely in no shape to ride but this was all he could think of.

Since the capture of Colonel Tavington, Bordon and Wilkins had tried to brainstorm an idea to get him back none seeming to be able to work without someone getting hurt or killed. And one thing they were both sure as the devil over. They didn't want a new commander in the morning. Now, they had less than 3 hours to think of something. So Wilkins decided that this was to be over with.

He'd ridden to the farm where they were keeping Gabriel and ordered a doctor to fix the boy up as best he could. Aside from a few broken ribs and cuts and whipping welts and a possible concussion, at least he was alive. They set him on a horse and headed back to Fresh Water, Wilkins in the lead. At least if nothing else the boy was alive. He didn't even look at Gabriel, maybe out of shame or maybe out of disdain, but wither way when they got back in front of the plantation; Wilkins stood in his stirrups and shouted loud enough to hear his own voice echo in the trees. "Benjamin Martin! We have what you want! He's alive! By rules of war we demand that you release Colonel Tavington in the same sort!"

The woods were dark around the squadron and Wilkins grumbled as he got off of his horse and dropped the reins, moving towards the burnt shell of the house. Angry gaze around and then back at the small group behind him. "Leave him here!" He commanded. "If they want him then they have him. If they don't find him in time that's not our worry!"

Two of the Dragoons pushed Gabriel off of the horse, leaving his wrists tied together and the boy hit the ground with a loud _thud_ and a groan. Wilkins walked back over to his horse and took the reins up, climbing into the saddle once more.

"But sir!" One of the Dragoons said as Wilkins turned his horse to go back to the road. "How do we know should they leave the Colonel here for us? They are quite animalistic in their ways of fighting. No honor at all."

Wilkins looked at the man and then back to the soldier. "I guess we'll have to place a guard at the road, won't we?" A kick to the horse's ribs and as it started a slow trot down the way towards the way back, the Captain ordered over his shoulder. "And you shall be the first one. Stay hidden and don't let them know you're around, soldier. They may decide to take out their wrath on you instead."

As the others hurriedly caught up to their Captain, the one lone Dragoon blinked and jerked the reins of his horse off to the side and urged the animal into the brush to hide. Well, if maybe there were a few things Wilkins was learning from the Colonel, how to be a complete bastard was a good one to start with, and the Dragoon slid off the horse, and sat down against a tree, huddling into himself for warmth. Summer was gone. Fall was approaching. And the nights were getting colder and colder.


End file.
